Oneshot: Wistful Thinking
by colouredred
Summary: Everyone has their own escape. Even the most inconsequential and undeserving. Scabior/OC


**A little required knowledge about this: Scabior is the sexy guy who leads the army into Hogwarts in the movie (HP and the Deathly Hallows p2). I wrote this on impulse at about 1 in the morning, directly after rewatching the Deathly Hallows p1, so welcome to the early-morning madness of my mind.**

**"Rufus" is the name I gave Scabior as he doesn't have a canonical name.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. Aria is an OC and all I claim credit for.**

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**- Wistful Thinking -**

When he returned, it was with a bang. Literally.

It was the very same door-slam Aria had become so familiar with. So accustomed to waking to.

And though she was tired, and reluctant, she still rose to greet him. She always would, even despite knowing how one-sided her feelings probably were.

Well, definitely were. But she wouldn't admit it.

"Hey." She yawned, poised in the crowded hallway of their home.

Latching onto her flimsy sleepwear – an old, oversized t-shirt that meant she needed to do some washing – he began to stalk towards her.

"That stupid bitch. Do ya know what she did?!" Rufus Scabior asked, to which Aria just shook her head. "She took _my_ catch. Claimed it all for 'erself!"

"Who?" Aria replied, yet not all desiring clarification.

She opened her arms, bringing them around his neck, when Rufus finally reached her. He wrapped his hands around her waist, already sliding them under her shirt.

"Lestrange. She took my snatch- you're not like 'er, thank God." He decided.

Aria arched her neck when she felt his lips slide over her skin. She really wasn't in the mood, but that had never mattered before.

"You never ask for anything, m'dear." Rufus murmured.

She could feel his need, his desire, and yet wondered at his words. It had been a long time since she'd heard such a confession. There was a twisted smirk to his expression, although his hands still trembled with anger.

"Because I love you." Aria pressed.

"Because you can't leave." He wrongly repeated.

When their lips met, meshing together in his eagerness, Aria felt herself being walked backwards into the bedroom.

She'd figured he'd take it out on her this way.

Wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last.

"Aria." Rufus growled, wanting something more from her.

Sensing this, she began to undress him, taking off his layers that had protected him from the cold. In return, she was stripped of her shirt, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments.

He continued to roam her body, oblivious to Aria's thoughts.

Her mind wandered absently from the situation, finding nothing to enthral her. Why would she enjoy being used? God only knew how many times Rufus'd slept with other women – especially with his face, body and higher standing in Voldemort's new world.

He paused when he felt her cringe, lips moving away from her neck. Then, as if for the first time, Rufus was able to note the bruise there. In the mirror behind her back, he found two on each thigh, from where he'd held her last. Her right arm was also discoloured, and her back lined with red scratches.

That had been his fault.

"Rufus?" she questioned.

"Why 'aven't you left? Or stolen from me?" he wondered.

"Why haven't _you_ left? There are plenty of other women, better women, who you could 'keep'."

He frowned, resting his jaw on her shoulder. He felt her hands move around his bare back, even as he traced the scars of his making. Aria, for a moment, arched towards him. Rufus breathed deeply; something he had not had the chance to do, despite being so close.

She spoke the truth.

"I don't need 'em if you're waiting for me, darl'." He decided.

"Oh." Aria breathed, right past his ear.

She sounded so surprised, something he had not heard in her voice in a while. He decided he rather liked it.

Perhaps that was why he pulled away, moving to sit on the bed. Aria, too shocked to move, just watched as he pulled off his boots and began stripping down.

"Aren't ya tired?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow at her.

She was.

"Yeah." she answered, slipping into the bed. She didn't even bother retrieving her shirt – Aria would rather not push her luck.

Rufus lay away from her, not facing Aria as he attempted to calm himself without her help. It took a moment, but soon enough, two thin arms wrapped around his chest, and a pair of soft lips undeservingly pressed against his neck.

Aria knew this was to be a good day – or night. One of the first in a long time. She hoped that it would last, that they could be as they had been.

Before.

It wouldn't happen, but she still hoped for it.

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**If you read this (the story, and the notes) I love you and I'm sorry. I've always had a think for two things: long hair, and a little bit of evil. Guess that's why I wrote this, as it gave me a chance to try to write about a discordant relationship.**

**If you liked this, then follow me and await more of my HP stories. Like my upcoming Sirius/OC series.**


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